


Mien

by dragontooth52



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Character Description, Character Study, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:47:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragontooth52/pseuds/dragontooth52
Summary: Mien(n.)A person's appearance or manner, especially as an indication of their mood.Short descriptions of a Wings of Fire character from another character's perspective, if they were humans.





	1. Clay, by Peril

**Author's Note:**

> Peril, by Clay.  
> Most likely takes place sometime while Peril is at Jade Mountain Academy before the events of Escaping Peril.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Clay, Peril or Wings of Fire. They all belong to Tui T. Sutherland. Cool? Cool.

Caramel coloured skin, shining like bronze in the early morning light that filtered in from the window. Waves of chocolate brown hair falling gently over his forehead in a manner that was almost careless. His hair likely fell like that because he didn't bother to properly brush it, just swept it out of his eyes and called it a day.

Large, round eyes, dark like a calf’s but beautiful like a doe’s. Full, round lips, chapped slightly from the weather. Smooth hands, bitten nails. Fingers fiddling with the strand of thread subconsciously as his eyes focused on the paper. His eyebrows were drawn together, forehead wrinkled.

He was wearing a sweater, pale brown and white and grey. Christmas themed, although it was only autumn. It made him look softer than normal, and she was sure it made his hugs warmer. Not that she’d know.

He glanced at her, his beautiful brown eyes catching her and holding her in place as he offered her a small smile. His lips turned up at the end, showing just a hint of his pearly white teeth. A slightly crooked, very infectious smile. She couldn’t help smiling back.


	2. Starflight, by Sunny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starflight, by Sunny.  
> Takes place sometime after the NightWing Island's volcano erupted and before Moon Rising. Likely only days after The Brightest Night.
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don't own these characters. Still cool? Cool.

His black hair was a little too long. Not that he’d know anymore. It hung down to his chin a mess of strands and tangles, charred at the ends. It looked like he hadn't touched it since The Incident. The few pale freckles not hidden by the bandages that used to dot his face had faded. The white bandages were coarse, rough fabric that probably scratched at his burns. His lips were chapped and scarred from The Incident.

She hadn’t been there, but she wished she had.

His back was hunched as his fingers moved methodically along the small bumps in the page of the book he was pouring over. The backs of his hands were scarred and darkened from burn marks. His right hand had a small twitch in his fingers that she knew hadn't been there before.

The tip of his tongue poked out the left side of his mouth in that familiar way it always did when he concentrated, but he looked so much more dishevelled than any time she’d seen him before. His mouth was turned down, bandages scrunched a little to show his eyebrows drawn together.

He was so similar, yet so different to the boy she used to know. She sighed, a small, hardly audible sound, but he heard it none the less. His head lifted and he looked around, clearly expecting to still be able to see whoever was in the room with him. She cleared her throat and his head turned to where she was standing, tilted to the side in a questioning motion.

She stepped forwards and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. His hands reached up to run across her skin, flaky skin on his fingers catching on her fingers. He smiled, finally recognising her. She didn’t smile back. Maybe if she had stayed, he wouldn’t be hurt like this. She didn’t deserve to be anywhere near him.

But his hands held hers tight, like they were a lifeline, and he refused to let go. So she had no choice but to stay.


	3. Winter, by Tundra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime when Winter is younger, maybe around two in dragon years? Before the events of the series, is my point.

He was silent, as usual. Head bowed, hands fidgeting. His white-blonde hair was dusted with snow from outside - he hadn't shaken it off yet. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. He was wearing a pale baby blue jacket, lined with soft white fur. He was still wearing his brown snow boots. Hadn't she told him a hundred times to take his boots off before he went inside? Hadn't she told him not to trek snow in the house a hundred different times?

He glanced up for a split second, nervousness clear in his pale blue eyes. His long lashes held the sparkle of unshed tears. His hollow cheeks and thin frame, even despite the thick jacket, made him seem delicate, too delicate. For a moment, she allowed herself to worry about him. To note that she had to feed him more, to promise to make sure he was protected and safe.

Then she caught herself. If he was to grow up strong he couldn't be weak. He should be more like his sister and brother.

When he glanced up again, she caught his pale blue eyes and held them in a frosty glare.


	4. Jambu, by Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime right when Glory first comes to the rainforest, definitely before she's queen.

A crown of obnoxiously bright hibiscus flowers sat lopsidedly on his head in a shade of pink so hot it seemed to blind her.

His hair was short and curly, although its length was uneven, as if he’d cut it himself with blunt scissors, blindfolded. The tips were stained a dark pink, likely he had died his hair many months ago but the colouring had since faded. She suspected it had once been a pink to rival his flower crown.

His skin was the colour of cocoa beans, smooth and dark, creased only by laughter lines around his eyes and a dimple on his left cheek. His eyes were a dark brown, but sparkled with warmth and laughter. His smile was almost infectious, crooked white teeth shining in the patch of sunlight where he sat, although there was nothing really to be happy about.

He wore an ill-fitting pink singlet, which was stained with mustard yellow specks on his right-side, near the ribs. A camouflage-printed pouch strung over his shoulder with a black strap. The zipper was undone slightly, showing the eye-bleedingly bright tips of sleeping darts. There were dark brown, borderline black, smudges on his elbows and hands, as if he’d recently fallen into mud or a similar substance and hadn’t properly washed off.

His hands were well-worn and blistered, despite his otherwise smooth skin, and his nails were crusted with dirt. Pinched between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand was a small wooden dart-gun, which he was rolling absently between his fingers. 

He wore lose knee-length shorts of a similar shade of pink as his singlet, maybe a shade or two darker and slightly faded. His legs were swinging through the air in a carefree, childish manner. His feet were bare, the skin of his soles hardened from walking barefoot.

His head tilted sharply to the side as she cleared her throat. He took a moment to examine her face, then burst out laughing, spare hand thrown across his stomach as he leant back, throwing his head up to the leafy treetops above. His laugh was sweet and infectious and she couldn’t help but let the smallest smile grace her lips as she met his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was re-reading the Hidden Kingdom and decided I really like Jambu. He's probably my favourite RainWing honestly. No real reason why. He's just . . . so uncaring about Glory freaking out about their tribe. It's great.


	5. Qibli, by Qibli (Halloween Special Pt 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qibli, sort of by Qibli (or maybe by Winter, who's also there). This has no set time as it's stupid and isn't really anything.

The wire of his cheap halo was bent slightly, causing the ring of white and silver fluff to tilt dangerously to the side. His curls of dark brown hair hid the plastic headband that attached the halo to his head. Small bits of fluff also perched on his hair, the halo was already falling apart.

Despite that, he was smiling, coffee-brown eyes surrounded by wrinkles caused by his white-tooth grin. The freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose stood out like specks of glitter, the small scar almost invisible when he smiled so brightly. His teeth gleamed in the light, mid-laugh as he saw his companion’s expression of utter disbelief.

His tanned skin shone in the yellow light as his hand tried to hide his grin, but it was still clearly visible through the gaps between his fingers.  
His stupid, cheap white robe was creased from too long in a plastic bag, and it hung stiffly over him. Wings that were all-too-clearly made from cardboard and white feathers and way too much glitter protruded from his shoulders, glinting blindingly in the light.

His legs swung through the air from where he was perched on the table, feet visible through his robes. He was wearing simple woven sandals.  
A golden harp sat on his lap. He was keeping it from spilling onto the floor with one hand, although it was tilting dangerously far forwards. Unlike the rest of his costume, it looked real and expensive, the golden carvings on it were intricate and beautiful.

He glanced back up at his companion, who was still frowning heavily. This just made him laugh harder, throwing his head back and nearly dislocating the headband completely. With one hand, the one not holding the harp, he pointed to a pile of neatly folded black and red clothes on the bed.

His companion’s frown only worsened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, Qibli's dressed as an angel. It's dumb just - whatever, ok?


	6. Winter, by Winter (Halloween Special Pt 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter, by Winter. Directly after the last chapter.

He scowled, dragging a hand down his face self-consciously. The spikes on the cheap plastic devil horn headband dug into his head and made it feel as though claws were trying to crack his head open. His blonde-white hair did nothing to hide the black headband that hurt his scalp.

He ran his fingers down the smooth, plasticy material of his shirt and scowled even more. The shiny red button-up itched his skin and made him feel stupid. But not as stupid as the black cloak tied around his shoulders. It’s decorative hem detailed red swirls. It fluttered in the wind and was a horrible contrast to his pale skin.

He rolled his eyes – they were now blood red thanks to the stupid contacts. The contacts irritated his eyes nearly as much as looking at the smug expression his ‘friend’ was wearing.

At least he got to wear his black dress pants, not that he liked them, but they weren’t cheap plastic so they were an improvement. Same went with his shoes.

But that was all taken away when his ‘friend’ offered him some sort of staff. He took it, turning the plastic in his hand. It was black, with three red prongs on the end, a devil staff. He sighed and decided that it could be worse.

After all, he hadn’t been made to wear leathery wings or a red tail. Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted a stupid devil/angel costume thing and did it with Qibli and Winter. I know, it's bad, just- just take it, okay?


	7. Flame, by Avalanche

His lips were parted, breath steaming in front of him in the cold, grey morning air. They were bitten and scarred and no doubt stung in the salty air. Her first impulse was to break line, to rush to him and sweep him into her arms, to comfort her son. She couldn't begin to imagine what he had gone through to leave him in the condition she now saw.

His hair, which had curled down to his ears in brilliant copper coils, now hung in stiff, dust filled clumps over his forehead, covering his eyes and face all the way down to the tip of his nose. The once vibrant colour was dull brown-grey with dirt and ash, whenever he moved his head too sharply small clouds of soot erupted into the air, causing him to cough viciously.

He had lost weight, cheeks hollow and bones sharp. On what she could see of his face smudges of ash and dirt, as well as a semi-circle of red marks that looked suspiciously like they were left by fingernails along his jaw, were all too easy to see on the pale skin.

His maroon ski jacket was covered in similar dust, and streaked with charcoal. One sleeve was missing from the elbow, loose threads from the inside fluff left uncut and tangled around his arm. His hands were littered with small scars and blisters, his nails bitten to the skin, left as a raw, bloody mess.

Other than his ski jacket and boots, his clothes had been replaced with some made from a flowing black fabric - knee length shorts and a t-shirt. His knees were grazed, legs trembling with exhaustion. His mountain boots were grey with soot and had been burnt through in several places, small, perfectly round holes dotting the thick material.

His posture was defensive, arms crossed over his chest, head lowered to stare at the ground. He couldn't meet her eyes, was he scared she'd be ashamed?

Finally, she couldn't take it any more. She rushed forwards and embraced him, whispering sweet nothings into his ears. He leant into her touch, body shaking with silent sobs. He was muttering apologies, voice cracked and dry. He smelt like ash and coal and something unpleasant that she couldn't name.

She held him at arms length, lifting his chin gently and pushed his hair off his face so she could meet his eyes, ignoring the dust that puffed into the air. Then she stopped and stared.

His left eye stared tearily back, amber colour dark with sorrow and bitter anger. Where his right eye should have stared back was a long scar, starting at his left eyebrow and running across his face, through the corner of his eye and to the bottom of his right ear. It was scabbed over, but it was black and oozing pus.

She recognised that kind of wound, formed by a poison that only the desert-dwellers knew how to find. Someone had done this to her son, someone had ruined him. With a sob, she drew him back close to her chest and let him cry into her shoulder. Her shaking hands ran through his hair, and she continued to whisper sweet nothings, ignoring the world outside her and her son.


	8. Starflight, by Morrowseer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime in the Dragonet Prophecy, likely the first time the dragonets meet Morrowseer, or else when Starflight is rescued from the arena.

The boy's deep brown eyes were almost impossibly wide as he stared up at the older man in front of him. The reflection of the man was clear in his eyes, image clouded with fear.

His skin was almost silkily soft, and milk like in colour. It was obvious from his complexion that he'd spent next to no time in the outside world.

His black hair looked soft and well-cared for, the neat, precise way it fell around his shoulders with not so much as a split end clearly displayed his sheltered life as much as his pale skin and wide eyes.

His right hand and been brought up to his mouth, tapping his lips in what appeared to be a nervous habit. The man noted, however, that the boy's nails were unbitten, perfect white semi-circles digging into his otherwise undamaged pink lips.

As the man watched, the boy's hand darted up and pushed his black, thick-rimmed glasses more firmly onto his nose.

The ugly brown garments he was wearing dropped off his thin frame, long, loose sleeves and simple stitches from where the corse fabric had torn.

He was barefoot, his toes were as perfectly manicured as his hands.

The boy had a soft look about him, despite his thin frame. The man wasn't sure he liked it. Or if he liked the nervous stuttering speech and persistent questions.

As the nam watched, the boy bit his lip, dragging the flesh through his teeth and leaving bright red marks. He opened his mouth, clearly to ask a question, but the man silenced him with a look.

Either way, the boy would have to do.


	9. Peril, by Scarlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For AbsolutePercyJacksonFan.
> 
> This one is set before Escaping Peril, when Scarlet visits Peril in her nightmares w/ the dreamvisitor.

A single whispered word and the dreamscape sprung up around her, dark tunnels and smoky air and the echoes of yells bouncing off stone.

And there  _she_ was.

Her brilliant copper hair was streaming out behind her like flickering flames as she ran. Her skin, darkened by long hours in the burning sun, shone with a sheen of sweat. Her blue eyes were widened in terror, the usual inferno that raged in her glare had changed to a fearful look, comparable to that of a deer in headlights, fire ablaze with fear, not anger.

The simple cloth and armour she had worn in the arena was gone, shimmering gold metal imprinted with brilliant red markings like blood replaced by boring maroon cloth, no doubt provided by those meddling, _brain-dead_ dragonet's _ridiculous_ idea of a school. She was getting distracted.

The sound of echoing footsteps drew close, as did the smell of smoke that surrounded  _her_ as though it were part of her terrifying,  _thrilling_ aura. Although it was now overlayed with the same unmanageable fear presented in every other aspect of her figure.

For once there wasn't even a flicker of fire burning along her skin. As if she could ever learn to  _control_ what she could do.

Finished with her observations, the queen stepped forwards, malicious smile widening as her weapon's fearful expression became shocked and her bare feet near skidded to a halt.

Yes, with that much fear, she would have  _no trouble_ controlling her most thrilling toy once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know it's short. I've been away for three weeks and then when I got back I realised it had been well over a month since I had updated this and wrote this the same night. Now I'm rambling, sorry.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, peace.


	10. Qibli, by Umber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qibli, by Umber. Takes place in Moon Rising, when the Jade Winglet have their first class together with Tsunami.
> 
> Also, I couldn't think of a way to get 'he' for Umber and 'he' for Qibli to be clear at all points so I just used Umber's name. Oh well.

He stood in the doorway, leaning against it really, a smirk on his face. It was one of those ones that wasn't over-confident, but was equal parts cynicism and good humour. His dark eyes glittered with the same look as it moved across the cave and Umber could almost hear the cogs whirring behind those beautiful, dark eyes. Said eyes were framed with long, dark eyelashes.

His chocolate-coloured skin was spotted with freckles, across his nose and cheeks. It gave him an element of youth and innocence and joy.

Curls of golden hair fell over his forehead and around his ears, framing his gorgeous cheekbones and plump lips. His hair was dyed, clear by the hint of darker hair beneath the shining gold, but strangely the mix of light and dark only made him more charming.

There was a small scar zigzagging across his nose and Umber wandered vaguely what had given him that scar. And from one ear hung a small amber earing, like a drop of desert heat carried with him all the way here.

His frame was thin, with narrow shoulders, but there was something steady about him, as if he weren't as frail as he looked.

He was dressed in the simple custom-made clothes of Jade Mountain Academy, a white button-up and dark pants, leather boots. His tie was yellow, unlike Umber's brown one, and he wore a dark yellow tunic that showed his previous position as a guard for the queen. His belt was made of leather, but was faded and cracked with age. The only thing expensive about it was the bronze scorpion-shaped buckle. From his belt hung a dagger and a small vial that Umber knew had to be full of poison.

Umber was not inclined to swooning, but if he was, boy would he be swooning at the sight of the boy. He was like a drop of golden sunlight, fallen from the sky and now gracing Umber with his presence.

Umber could only form one thought. _Wow. He's gorgeous._


	11. Hailstorm, by Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For acekeithkogane (Sorry for the delay). Takes place during Winter Turning, right as/after Pyrite transforms back into Hailstorm.

_It isn't possible_. Was his only thought as he stared in shocked silence at the scene unfolding before him.  _It isn't possible._

But it was. Because he was seeing it with his own eyes.

Her waves of strawberry-blonde hair were shrinking, growing back into her skull, replaced with silky hair a shade of blonde so pale it was almost invisible, cropped close in a military cut style that characterised the dragons in his tribe.

Her soft amber eyes were rippling like water in the wind, the colour draining out of them, replacing the innocent light with a hard, fierce blue, sharp as shards of ice, blue as an arctic sky, but with a hidden sparkle like sunlight on water, a glint that he knew from the times he'd been fixed with that affectionate look. Her eyebrows, now a pale blonde matching her hair, drew together in a look of confusion.

Her petite nose was straightening, growing sharper, the nose ring, that he admitted was rather fashionable, was nowhere to be seen. In fact, her entire face was changing becoming squarer, stubble grew along her now-sharp jaw. Her thin lips parted in confusion, but no words came out.

Her smooth caramel coloured skin was growing lighter, paler, paler than his skin. Her now-pale hands were raised to her neck. They had grown larger, fingers longer and the skin was spotted with small scars and raised lines where scratches had once been made, and raw red markings from long hours of strenuous physical activity every day.

He watched a gaping jaw as her drab Talons of Peace garments shimmered, the fabric re-weaving itself to a  _very_ familiar white parka with glossy off-white fur that he  _knew_ came from a polar bear, grey ski trousers a size too big, buckled with a black leather belt that had a buckle depicting a silver dragon and brown snow boots.

"How . . . ?" Her soft, sweet voice had grown deeper, cracking with disuse.

"How . . . ?" He echoed, clenching his trembling hands into fists.

Because he knew her. She, she wasn't a she at all. She was his  _brother_. He couldn't believe it. He thought that, if he'd seen it a thousand more times, he'd never be able to believe it. There was no way. But it was true. There was no denying the fact that his brother was standing here right before him.

Pure shock spread across his face, a look that perfectly matched the human opposite him,  _his brother_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys like this then I guess I could take requests?


End file.
